


Respira

by quartetship



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Inspired by Art, Inspired by Fanart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 20:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7947376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually, Keith is fine with letting Lance bullshit his way through things. Today, for whatever reason, is different. Today, his patience for pretense is gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respira

**Author's Note:**

> This short piece was inspired by [this beautiful artwork](https://twitter.com/mintyinked/status/771003205668839424) by [InkyMint](https://twitter.com/mintyinked). I am probably gonna end up writing something based on every piece they draw, tbh. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> \--

Everyone celebrates differently. 

There's no manual for how to congratulate yourself, when you're light years from home and you've just won yet  _ another _ terrifying battle against a dangerous band of alien terrorists. The paladins have long since stopped teasing one another for the ways they unwind, after each one. Shiro likes to hit the training deck, Pidge likes to dive into yet more reading material, and Hunk likes to talk, to hug, to clap everyone on the shoulders and tell them how wonderful they are. 

Everyone does things differently, Keith reminds himself. But Lance is nowhere to be found, amongst the post-battle celebrations, and when Keith finally locates him, he’s staring out a giant, stories-high window into the dark and endless expanse of space, alone. Alone, and crying. 

Keith feels his chest tighten. There's different, and then there's ‘not okay’. He slips quietly into the room where Lance has isolated himself, waiting for Lance to notice his presence before he comes close enough to truly be seen. He waits for permission; Lance grants it. 

“Hey,” he mumbles, his voice low and quiet. He backs away from where he’s been standing, hands pressed against the glass, and waves in Keith’s direction with one, the other wiping furiously at his eyes. Fixing a smile on his face, he clears his throat, and suddenly he sounds more like himself, but Keith can still hear the frayed edges of his feigned happiness. 

They've know each other long long enough - and well enough - for Keith to tell when Lance is being less than sincere. He's heard the truth in whispered confessions, and the lies in bold bravado. Still, Lance tries it.

“Today was one hell of a show, huh?” Lance thrusts hands into his pockets now, shrugging for added effect. Keith nods, approaching him. He glances out the window, looking for whatever might have been holding Lance’s attention for so long. There is nothing, nothing but distant planets and the twinkle of stars, light from foreign suns and faraway galaxies. He returns his eyes to Lance, swallowing. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, and he hopes he doesn't sound upset. If anything, he only wishes Lance had told him that something was wrong, rather than holing up to deal with it, himself. True to form, Lance nods instantly, a little too dramatically to be convincing. 

“Of course! You think a little combat action bothers a guy like me?” He crosses his arms over his chest, drawing himself up and standing proudly, cocky grin right where it always is. “I was born to do this.”

Usually, Keith is fine with letting Lance bullshit his way through things. Today, for whatever reason, is different. Today, his patience for pretense is gone.

“You were crying,” he says flatly, and the smirk on Lance’s face begins to falter. “I didn't come in here to make fun of you for being upset, Lance. I just… I wanna know what's wrong so I can help.”

A moment of silence passes, and then another, as Keith waits for a snappy retort. Lance stares at him, his lip curling in on itself as he gnaws at it, thinking. Then he's closing his eyes, a small, sad smile replacing the wide grin that had been there before. 

“M’fraid you can't help me, buddy.” Lance turned away then, walking back over to the window, and taking a seat on the floor, right in front of it. “It's not somethin’ anybody can change, so--”

“You're homesick again, aren't you?” 

The question hangs in the air, Keith watching Lance as he stiffens, then finally slumps forward, pulling his knees to his chest. 

“It… It was raining,” he whispers, and if it weren't so quiet in the room, Keith might not be able to hear him. “On that planet we were on today. It was  _ raining, _ and you have no idea how much I wanted to…” He raked a hand roughly through his hair, shaking his head, eyes still not meeting Keith’s as he stared out the window. “I miss it so much.”

Lance’s voice wavers again, and then it dissolves into soft, hiccuping sobs as he lowers his head between his knees. Curled into a tight ball, he sits, shoulders shaking as he quietly cries. Keith hovers for a moment before finally joining him, afraid he’ll be pushed away. 

Instead, Lance notices his presence, and lets himself fall to the side, to lean against Keith’s shoulder as Keith settles on the floor beside him. They sit that way for a while, Keith’s gloved hand inching closer to Lance’s on the floor until their fingers are linked, and Lance is squeezing whatever part of Keith he can get ahold of, like it's the only thing keeping him from falling to pieces entirely. 

Keith curls fingers around Lance’s in return, breathing deeply, slowly, trying not to cry as well. 

“It's okay, you know.” He says it quietly, so that Lance isn't frightened by the sudden fracture of the silence between them. “You're not alone, and this… It's okay.”

At that, Lance bristles, and sits bolt upright, pulling away. “No. No, it's really not. It's  _ not _ okay, Keith. Look, I know you have your own shit that you miss about earth, or maybe you don't, I don't even know. And I know I have the rest of you guys to talk to or whatever. But that - it doesn't make the fact that I miss my fucking family and my home and my  _ planet _ okay. I didn't even realize I had so much  _ to _ miss until it was gone, and now I don't know if or when I'll ever see any of it again, and you can't - I can't just stop caring!” 

Barely breathing between his growling words, Lance bares his teeth like a frightened animal. There's something imposing about the way he holds himself, clamoring to his knees, shoulders rolled forward like he might lunge at Keith at any moment. But alongside that anger, there is something small, something broken that begs to be mended, and Keith is not afraid of him. 

He never has been. 

Waiting for Lance to catch his breath, Keith keeps their eyes locked, unflinching. Finally, Lance’s chest ceases heaving, and tears well in his eyes again, and that is when Keith moves onto his knees as well, shuffling forward until they're face to face. 

“I know you can't,” he says, and it's gentle, but it's not an apology. “I don't expect you to stop caring. I'm sure no one here does. Missing your family and earth and everything else  _ isn't _ an okay feeling, and I don't expect you to be okay with it. But  _ you're _ okay.” He reaches forward, hands coming to rest on Lance’s shoulders, and Lance shakes his head, stuttered, tearful voice struggling to form a coherent response. 

“But I don't - how can I - when I can't…”

“You don't have to feel okay, all the time,” Keith supplies, and Lance stills, listening. “You don't even have to feel okay most of the time. None of us probably do, anyway. This whole thing - it's scary as hell. No one would be mad at you for being upset. But Lance… You  _ are _ okay. You're alive. You made it through another day, and that means you're a day closer to all the things you want to see again, whether that happens soon or it takes a long time. And in the meantime, you're not alone. I’m right here. So just breathe.”

Lance swallows, audible in the relative quiet, and lets his head fall forward onto Keith’s shoulder. Keith weaves fingers into tousled brown hair, swirling them in soothing patterns, until finally, Lance is doing what he asked. Slow and rhythmic, he breathes, tears falling silently into the fabric of Keith’s shirt. 

Keith has never more hated and loved a single moment, in all of his life.

“I'm sorry, Lance,” he breathes, and Lance raises his head, meets Keith’s eyes with confusion. “I'm sorry I can't do more to make things easier for you. I'm homesick too, and I understand, and I wish I could fix this whole thing so that the universe was safe and we could all just go home. But in the meantime, just… Breathe with me, okay?” 

His hands find their way to Lance’s shoulders again, and then they're holding his face as Lance nods. His skin is soft beneath Keith’s thumb as he wipes yet more tears from Lance’s cheek, and then Lance is leaning forward, pressing his forehead to Keith’s, eyes shuttering closed. 

“Mhm. Sí -  _ respira,” _ he mutters, his nose bumping against Keith’s, “Breathe.” It's all Keith can do to keep from joining Lance in tears when he swallows the rest of his fears and leans forward more still, brushing his lips against Keith’s. Their kiss is slow and sweet, the kind of lingering softness they seldom have time for, and Keith lets his hands settle on either side of Lance’s face, holding him close for as long as the universe will let him. 

Together, for a moment, they’re okay. There is no future to frighten them, no past to follow. There is only the warmth of hands and tears and lips pressed gently together. 

As the other paladins celebrate yet another battle won, the two of them hold onto one another, and simply breathe. 


End file.
